


Loudest Voices

by Evil_Little_Dog



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Community: fmagiftexchange, Family, Gen, Humor, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 20:09:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/pseuds/Evil_Little_Dog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary:  Learning to use an inside voice is a trial.<br/>Disclaimer:  Just playing paper dolls here; Arakawa absolutely owns all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loudest Voices

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt of, "Edward Elric + Alphonse Elric, Inside Voice". 
> 
> Thanks to Cornerofmadness for her edits.

Forgetting himself, Edward shouted, “Al! Al, take a look at this!” as he pelted across the wooden floor, looking for his brother. 

“Edward Elric!” 

“Nng!” Edward winced, glancing over his shoulder at Mrs. Nedobeck, the old lady who watched over the books in the little Resembool lending library. 

She glided up to him, like some sort of creepy ghost in that movie the movie man had shown two weeks ago. “You know you’re supposed to use your ‘inside voice’ in the library, Edward.” Mrs. Nedobeck wagged a finger at him. 

Edward scowled, ducking his head a little bit, his fingers clenching harder around the book he’d found. “Yes, Missus Nedobeck,” he grumbled, sliding the book down beside his leg. 

“What book is that?” Mrs. Nedobeck crossed her arms, staring down her nose at him. 

“Nothing!” 

“Nothing?” Snapping her finger at him, Mrs. Nedobeck held out her palm. 

“Nng!” Reluctantly, Edward raised the book, holding on tight but letting her see the title.

“Edward,” Mrs. Nedobeck tsked, “this is an adult book.” She took hold of it and tugged, scowling when he didn’t let go. “This book is too mature for you!”

“I can read it!” Edward argued, not letting go. “Al!” Spotting his brother, he jerked his head, beckoning him over. “Tell her!” 

“Edward,” Mrs. Nedobeck sighed, “using your brother as a reference is not the way to plead your case.” 

“I don’t know why,” Edward growled at her. 

“Brother!” Alphonse said. “Be nice.” He slapped Edward’s shoulder, frowning at him, and then turned a bright smile up at the old hag. “Really, Mrs. Nedobeck!” he said, and Edward mouthed the words along with him, making a face that he hid by lowering his head, “Brother can read this book! You can ask our Mom. We _both_ can read this book.” Taking a deep breath, Alphonse added, “She let’s us read our Dad’s books, even though he’s not here.”

Risking a look up at the old hag through his bangs, Edward tried to keep from grinning. Her face had fallen, the corners of her mouth turning down, and her hand trembled just a little bit. Al was smart, playing the ‘no dad’ card. It always seemed to work, except on Mom. “Well, if you can read Mr. Hohenheim’s books,” Mrs. Nedobeck said, with a funny little catch in her voice. “I suppose you can read that one, Edward.” Her eyes sharpened on him when he raised his head, grinning. “But, you will look at it there,” she pointed at the table directly in front of her desk, “and you won’t take it out of the library.”

“But!” Edward snapped, grunting when Alphonse elbowed him. 

“That’s fine, Missus Nedobeck!” he chirped, and caught hold of the book, too. Edward let it go and Alphonse carried it to the table, climbing into a chair. Edward dragged another chair around, the sound of the legs scraping on the floor making Mrs. Nedobeck wince. He smiled at her as he hopped into his chair, standing on his knees so he could get a better look. “What is this book, Brother?” Alphonse asked softly. 

“It’s an alchemy book, Al, one that isn’t in the old man’s collection.” Edward opened the cover, the familiar smell of glue, leather and old paper rising in his nostrils. He inhaled it eagerly, bending over the title page. 

“Ooo!” Alphonse carefully turned past the front piece, the soft rustle of the page like music, as far as Edward was concerned. The two boys bent closer to the book, whispering eagerly to each other as they began reading. “Maybe we’ll find something really amazing in here to show Mom!” Alphonse whispered. 

Edward nodded. “Yeah! That’s what I want, too.” 

“Boys!” Mrs. Nedobeck said. “Please, speak more quietly! This is a library.” 

Edward wished he was brave enough to flash that gesture he’d seen Michael Todd use at school the other day, but Mrs. Nedobeck was looking at them so closely, and he didn’t want to upset Mom. Rolling his eyes wasn’t quite the same, but it’d do for now. 

X X X

Alphonse sat in the grass, the sun beating down on him. Next to him, Edward stared off into the distance, a weed stem dangling from his teeth, the two-pronged seed stalk on the end bobbing slightly as he chewed. Alphonse knew from the shape of the seed strands that the weed would have a faintly sweet taste, not like the little yellow flowers that tasted bitter and salty, or the fox tail weeds, that were always green and sweet. 

Edward spat the stem out, beating his hand on the arm of the wheelchair. “I can’t wait ‘til I’m healed up enough for automail surgery.” 

“You have to have patience, Brother.” 

“Fft.” Edward glared at his leg stump, bouncing it against the seat. “I’m healed enough. I should make that old hag do the operation now. Push me back to the house, Al!” 

“Granny says you’re not ready, Ed!” Alphonse scolded. “She’d know.” He swiveled his head, the metal squealing softly as he did. When Edward opened his mouth, Alphonse said, “You know she’s right! You can’t rush your healing.” 

“I’m not rushing anything, Al!” Edward shifted his weight in the chair, glaring at Alphonse. 

“You are, too, and you know it.” Alphonse couldn’t fold his arms; they weren’t long enough to stretch across the monstrous chest of the armor. A part of him wondered just why the armor was built that way. No one really had chests this big, did they? And then he thought of Mr. Curtis, and thought, yes, maybe they did. “Granny will let you know when you’re healed enough for surgery. You have to build up your strength again. You lost a lot of blood, when we tried to bring Mom back!”

His face fell, and Edward’s lower lip poked out, trembling a little bit. “But…it’s got to be like a prison, being in that armor!” 

The shoulder plates rattled as Alphonse realized he couldn’t really shrug, either. “It’s not so bad, Brother,” he said, but his voice trailed off. 

“It is!” Edward snapped, nearly falling out of his wheelchair as he waved his arm. “You can’t feel anything, or eat or…or,” his sigh gusted out from between his teeth. “Anything.” 

“Yeah, but it’s okay, I mean, for now. I know we’re going to get our bodies back. All we have to do is get to Central City, and find what we need to know in the library there.” 

Edward nodded slowly, rubbing his chin. 

Alphonse watched him closely. “You aren’t really going to join the military, are you, Brother?” 

“That bastard, Mustang,” Edward made a disgusted face, “he said there was a lot of stuff in the military libraries that isn’t released to the general public.” His grimace turned thoughtful. “I wonder why.” 

“Maybe because people aren’t supposed to do what we did,” Alphonse reminded. 

“Yeah, maybe,” but Edward sounded doubtful. 

“I guess we’ll find out when we get to Central City.” 

“But we can’t do that until I can convince the micro-grandma that I’m well enough for automail surgery!” Edward shouted, as if Granny Pinako could hear him all the way out here. His lip curled. 

Alphonse slapped his faceplate. Sometimes, his brother could be such an idiot. “Granny’s looking out for you. If she says you’re not ready for automail surgery, then you know she’s right. She’s the best.” 

Narrowing his eyes, Edward muttered, “Old hag.” 

“I heard that, boy!” Pinako’s voice rose up from somewhere, and Alphonse ducked reflexively. 

“How?” Edward asked, twisting around as far as he could in his wheelchair. “Where is she?” 

Alphonse raised his hands, his equivalent of a shrug. “You always say she’s got really good ears.” Edward’s actual words were, ‘ears like a bat’, but that seemed crude to Alphonse. “And,” he raised a finger before his brother could open his mouth, “You weren’t using your inside voice.” 

Flailing his arm and foot, Edward shouted, “I’ll show all of you an inside voice!”

“Brother, please,” Alphonse sighed, wondering if it was time to take him back to the house yet or not. 

X X X

“Take a look at this, Al.” Edward beckoned his brother into the nursery, leading the way to the crib set up under the window. The sheer curtains were drawn, enough to keep the sun directly out of the baby’s face, but illuminating the room enough that it was easy to see the prize within it. “You have to be quiet. He’s sleeping.” 

Alphonse leaned over the crib’s railing, peering down at his nephew. Only a few days old, but Alphonse could see his brother’s features in the boy’s face. Sprigs of dark gold hair graced his head, and fainter colored eyebrows shifted down into a frown. The boy murmured, sticking the curled forefinger of his fist in his mouth. He made a few smacking sounds then went quiet again. His body was tiny and relatively shapeless in the sleeping gown, which reminded Alphonse of a potato sack more than anything, but he decided it probably kept the baby warm. “What’d you decide to name him?” 

Edward gave him a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his head. “We’re still arguing about that,” he said. “But we’ve narrowed it down to three names now.” 

“As long as one of them isn’t ‘Alphonse’, that’s pretty good,” he said, smile widening at the sight of his brother’s flush. “No. I want to name my own son Alphonse. You name yours Edward.” 

“Uh, uh.” Shaking his head, Edward murmured, “She says, ‘one of you is enough!’.” 

“She’s right,” Alphonse snickered. 

The baby whined, kicking his legs in his sack-dress, making Edward’s eyes widen and his mouth button itself shut. He waved at Alphonse frantically to stay quiet, trying to get him to leave the room. 

Alphonse managed to hold in his laughter until the door was closed, then it burst out of him. He laughed harder when Edward socked him in the shoulder. 

“What?” Edward asked, bristling. 

Smirking, Alphonse said, “Just thinking you’ve finally learned what an inside voice is, Brother.”


End file.
